But, though master of all the Austrian territories, he experienced great difficulties in transferring them to his family. Some claimants of the Bamberg line still existed: Agnes, daughter of Gertrude and wife of Ulric of Heunburg, and the two sons of Constantia by Albert of Misnia. Those provinces were likewise coveted by Louis, Count Palatine of the Rhine, and by his brother Henry of Bavaria, as having belonged to their ancestors, and by Meinhard of Tyrol, from whom he had derived such essential assistance, in virtue of his marriage with Elizabeth, widow of the emperor Conrad and sister of the Dukes of Bavaria. The Misnian princes, however, having received a compensation from Ottocar, withheld their pretensions, and Rudolph purchased the acquiescence of Agnes and her husband by a sum of money and a small cession of territory. He likewise eluded the demands of the Bavarian princes and of Meinhard by referring them to the decision of the German diet, In the mean time he conciliated, by acts of kindness and liberality, his new subjects, and obtained from the states of the duchy a declaration that all the lands possessed by Frederick the Warlike belonged to the Emperor, or to whomsoever he should grant them as fiefs, saving the rights of those who within a given time should prosecute their claims. He then intrusted his son Albert with the administration, convoked, on August 9, 1281, a diet at Nuremberg, at which he presided in person, and obtained a decree annulling all the acts and deeds of Richard of Cornwall and his predecessors, since the deposition of Frederick II, except such as had been approved by a majority of the electors. In consequence of this decree another was passed specifically in-validating the investiture of the Austrian provinces, which in 1262 was obtained from Richard of Cornwall by Ottocar.

Carinthia having been unjustly occupied by Ottocar, in contradiction to the rights of Philip, Archbishop of Salzburg, brother of Ulric, the last duke, the claims of Philip were acknowledged by Rudolph, and he took his seat at the Diet of Augsburg as Duke of Carinthia. On the conquest of that duchy he petitioned for the investiture, but Rudolph delayed complying with his request under various pretences, and, Philip dying without issue in 1279, the duchy escheated to the empire as a vacant fief.

Rudolph, being at length in peaceable possession of these territories, gradually obtained the consent of the electors, and at the Diet of Augsburg, in December, 1282, conferred jointly on his two sons, Albert and Rudolph, Austria, Styria, Carinthia, and Carniola. But at their desire he afterward resumed Carinthia, and bestowed it on Meinhard of Tyrol, to whom he had secretly promised a reward for his services, and in 1286 obtained the consent of the electors to this donation. By the request of the states of Austria (1283), he declared that duchy and Styria an inalienable and indivisible domain to be held on the same terms, and with the same rights and privileges, as possessed by the ancient dukes, Leopold and Frederick the Warlike, and vested the sole administration in Albert, assigning a specific revenue to Rudolph and his heirs, if he did not obtain another sovereignty within the space of four years.

EDWARD I CONQUERS WALES

A.D. 1277

CHARLES H. PEARSON



Up to the time of Edward I, Wales, which had been partially subdued by Henry I, was a source of continual disturbance to the English kingdom. Long before the accession of Edward, the greater part of Welsh territory was parcelled out into little English principalities. Under John and Henry III, Llewelyn the Great, Prince of Wales, maintained his independence until 1237, three years before his death, when he submitted in order to secure the succession of his son David. Upon David's death, in 1246, the principality of Wales was divided between Llewelyn and Owen the Red, sons of Griffith ap Llewelyn, David's illegitimate brother. Civil war soon followed, and in 1224 Llewelyn made himself master of the land.

Llewelyn might have reached absolute independence had he not taken part with Simon de Montfort in the barons' war against Henry III. With the defeat and death of Montfort at Evesham (1265) the prospect of a new Welsh sovereignty vanished; Llewelyn purchased a peace and was recognized by Henry as prince of Wales, retaining a part of his territories.

When Llewelyn was summoned as a vassal of the English crown to the coronation of Edward I (1274), he refused. Twice again was he summoned to do homage to the King, but still evaded the summons. Upon his final refusal to come to the parliament of 1276, his lands were declared to be forfeited, and in 1277 Edward led an army into Wales.

The whole force of the realm was summoned to meet at Worcester in June, 1277, and so well was the command obeyed that Edward found himself able to dispose of three armies. With the first he himself operated along the north, opening a safe road through the Cheshire forests, and fortifying Flint and Rhuddlan, while the ships of the Cinque Ports hovered along the coast and ravaged Anglesey. The corps d'armee, under the Earl of Lincoln and Roger Mortimer, besieged and reduced Dolvorwyn castle in Montgomeryshire. The third was led into Cardigan by Payne de Chaworth, who ravaged the country with such vigor that the South Welsh—being probably disaffected to a prince not of their own lineage—surrendered the castle of Stradewi and made a general submission.

Edward had avoided the fatal errors of previous commanders, who had risked their forces in a barren and difficult country. His blockade was so well sustained that Llewelyn was starved, rather than beaten, into unconditional submission.

With singular moderation, Edward had declined receiving the homage of the southern chiefs. He now granted Llewelyn honorable terms, November 5, 1277. A fine of fifty thousand pounds was imposed to mark the greatness of the victory, but remitted next day out of the King's grace. Four border cantreds,[72] old possessions of the English crown, which Llewelyn had wrested from it in the wars of the late reign, were to be surrendered to the English King, who already occupied them. Prisoners in the English interests were to be set free, and Llewelyn was to come under "an honorable" safe-conduct to London and perform homage. Edward had promised David [73] half the principality, but with a reservation at the time that he might, if he chose, give him compensation elsewhere. He now elected to do this, moved, it would seem, simply by the wish not to dismember Llewelyn's dominions, and David was made governor of Denbigh castle, married to the Earl of Derby's daughter, and endowed with extensive estates. In every other respect Llewelyn was tenderly dealt with. The hostages exacted were sent back. The rent of one thousand marks stipulated for Anglesey was remitted. When the Prince of Wales came to London to perform homage he received the last favor of all, and was married sumptuously, at the King's cost, to Lady Eleanor de Montfort.

There is no reason for supposing that Edward cherished any covert plans of absorbing Wales into England. Having wiped out the dishonor of his early years, and replaced England in its old position of ascendency, he had no motive for reviving bitter memories or dispossessing a great noble of his fief. The King's conduct in giving his cousin to one who was only her equal through a usurped royalty; the inquests held in the marches to determine border law; the instructions to the royal judges, to judge according to local customs; the special commission appointed when Llewelyn thought himself aggrieved are curious evidence of fair-mindedness in a strong-willed and almost absolute sovereign. But in one respect Edward was ill-fitted to deal with an uncivilized people. He was overstrict for the times even in England, where his subjects almost learned, before he died, to regret the anarchy of his father's reign. But his officers were nowhere harsher than in Wales, where the people, unaccustomed to a minute legality, complained that they were worse treated than Saracens or Jews. Old offences were raked up; wrecking was made punishable; the legal taxes were aggravated by customary payments; and distresses were levied on the first goods that came to hand, whether Llewelyn's own or his subjects'.

The people of the four annexed cantreds were soon ripe for rebellion, David was alienated from the English cause by petty quarrels with Reginald Gray, Justice of Chester, who insisted on making him answer before the English courts, hanged some of his vassals, and carried a military road through his woods. The Welsh gentlemen complained that they were removed from offices which they had purchased, brought to justice for old offences which ought to have been condoned by the peace, and deprived of their jurisdiction in local courts. For a time the lady Eleanor tried to mediate between her husband and her cousin. But it was impossible that a stern, just man like Edward, penetrated with the most advanced doctrine of European legists and deriving his information from English employes, should be able to understand the position of the chief of a semibarbarous nationality, who thought outrages on law matters to be atoned for by fines, while he brooded with implacable rancor over every slight, real or fancied, to his own position as prince of Wales, representative of a dynasty that had ruled "since the time of Camber the son of Brutus."

Moreover, Llewelyn thought, perhaps unreasonably, that he had been betrayed by Edward. He said that on the day of his marriage the English King had forced him to subscribe a document to the effect that he would never harbor an English exile or maintain forces against Edward's will. There was little in all this that was not implied in Llewelyn's position as vassal, and he himself did not complain that the conditions had ever been offensively pressed. A king who had granted such liberal terms as Edward might perhaps claim, with reason, that his conquered vassal should never threaten him with hostilities. But the offence was none the less deadly, that it was justified by the relations of subject and sovereign.

A curious superstition precipitated an outbreak, In the time of Henry I some Norman had fabricated the so-called prophecies of Merlin, which were designed to reconcile the Welsh to the Norman Conquest. Henry was designated in them as the lion of justice, and it was given as a sign of his reign that the symbol of commerce would be split and the half be round. The prophecy had already been fulfilled by the regulation for breaking coin at the mint, and making the half-penny a round piece by itself. In 1279 Edward issued the farthing as an entire coin. The change recalled the memory of Merlin's prophecy; and the vague oracles, that had been compiled to describe Henry's dominion over the Saxons, were easily interpreted to mean that a Welsh prince should be crowned at London, and retrieve what its natives regarded as the lost dominion of the principality.

Llewelyn, it is said, consulted a witch, who assured him that he should ride crowned through Westcheap. But the Prince of Wales also relied on less visionary assurances. The "quo-warranto" commission was prosecuting its labors vigorously, and had produced a widespread discontent in England, where men said openly that the King would not suffer them to reap their own corn or mow their grass. Llewelyn was in correspondence with the malcontents, and received promises of support. His brother David was easily induced to join the rebellion, and began it on Palm Sunday, 1282, by storming the castle of Hawarden, and making Roger de Clifford, its lord and Edward's sheriff, his prisoner. Flint and Rhuddlan were next reduced, and the Welsh spread over the marches, waging a war of singular ferocity, slaying, and even burning, young and old women and sick people in the villages. The rebellion found Edward unprepared, but he met it with equal vigor and efficiency. Making Shrewsbury his head-quarters, and moving the exchequer and king's bench to it, he summoned troops not only from all England, but from Gascony.

It is possible that the foreign recruits were intended to strengthen the King's hands against subjects of doubtful fidelity, but no real embarrassment from the disaffected was sustained. The troops mustered operated in two armies, which started from Rhuddlan and Worcester, and enclosed Llewelyn, as before, from north and south. Meanwhile the ships of the Cinque Ports reduced Anglesey, "the noblest feather in Llewelyn's wing," as Edward joyfully observed. But the King was faithful to his old policy of a blockade. A bridge of ships was thrown across the Menai Straits, and the forests between Wales proper and the English border were hewn down by an army of pioneers. The King's banner, the golden dragon, showed that quarter would be given.

As the war lasted on, negotiations were attempted; and the Archbishop of Canterbury, who had threatened the last sentence of the Church against Llewelyn and his adherents, was sent over to Snowdon to hold a conference. Llewelyn had already been warned that it was idle to expect assistance from Rome. He was now summoned to submit at discretion, with a hope—so expressed as to be a promise—that he and the natives of the revolted districts would have mercy shown them. In private he was informed that, on condition of surrendering Wales, he should receive a county in England and a pension of one thousand pounds a year. David was to go to the Holy Land, and not return except by the King's permission. These terms were undoubtedly hard, but could not be called unreasonable, as, by the subjugation of Anglesey, the principality was reduced to the two modern counties of Merionethshire and Carnarvonshire. Llewelyn and his barons preferred to die fighting sword in hand for position and liberty. The Primate excommunicated them and withdrew.

About the time of this interview, November 6th, there was a sharp skirmish at Bangor. Some of the Earl of Gloucester's troops crossed over before the bridge was completed, except for low-water mark, and were surprised and routed, with the loss of their leader and fourteen bannerets, by the Welsh. This encouraged Llewelyn to resume offensive operations, and he poured troops into Cardigan to ravage the lands of a Welshman in the English interest. The English forces in Radnor marched up along the left bank of the Wye, and came in sight of the enemy at Buelth, December 10th. Llewelyn was surprised during a reconnaissance and killed by an English knight, Stephen de Frankton. After a short but brilliant encounter, in which the English charged up the brow of a hill and routed the enemy with loss, they examined the dead bodies, and for the first time knew that Llewelyn was among the slain. A letter was found on his person giving a list, in false names, of the English nobles with whom he was in correspondence, but either the cipher was undiscoverable or the matter was hushed up by the King's discretion.

Llewelyn, dying under church ban, was denied Christian sepulture. His head, crowned with a garland of silver ivy-leaves, was carried on the point of a lance through London, and exposed on the battlements of the Tower. The prophecy that he should ride crowned through London had been fatally fulfilled.

With the death of Llewelyn the Welsh war was virtually at an end. With all his faults of temper and judgment, he had shown himself a man of courage and capacity, who identified his own cause with his people's. But David, though now implicated in the rebellion beyond hope of pardon, had fought under the English banner against his countrymen, with the wish to dismember the principality. The Welsh cannot be accused of fickleness if they became languid in a struggle against overwhelming power and a king who had shown them more tenderness than their leader for the time. David's one castle of Bere was starved into surrender by the Earl of Pembroke, and David himself taken in a bog by some Welsh in the English interest. His last remaining adherent, Rees ap Walwayn, surrendered, on hearing of his lord's captivity, and was sent prisoner to the Tower. For David himself a sadder fate was reserved. His request for a personal interview with his injured sovereign was refused. Edward did not care to speak with a man whom he had no thought of pardoning. He at once summoned a parliament of barons, judges, and burgesses to meet at Shrewsbury, September 29th, and decide on the prisoner's fate. It is evident that Edward was incensed in no common measure against the traitor whom, as he expressed it, he had "taken up as an exile, nourished as an orphan, endowed from his own lands, and placed among the lords of our palace," and who had repaid these benefits by a sudden and savage war.

Nevertheless, the King, from policy or from temperament, resolved to associate the whole nation in a great act of justice on a man of princely lineage. The sentence, which excited no horror at the time, was probably passed without a dissentient voice. David was sentenced, as a traitor, to be drawn slowly to the gallows; as a murderer, to be hanged; as one who had shed blood during Passion-tide, to be disembowelled after death; and for plotting the King's death, his dismembered limbs were to be sent to Winchester, York, Northampton, and Bristol. Seldom has a shameful and violent death been better merited than by a double-dyed traitor like David, false by turns to his country and his king; nor could justice be better honored than by making the last penalty of rebellion fall upon the guilty Prince, rather than on his followers.

The form of punishment in itself was mitigated from the extreme penalty of the law, which prescribed burning for traitors. Compared with the execution under the Tudors and Stuarts, or with the reprisal taken after Culloden, the single sentence of death carried out on David seems scarcely to challenge criticism. Yet it marks a decline from the almost bloodless policy of former kings. Since the times of William Rufus no English noble, except under John, had paid the penalty of rebellion with life. In particular, during the late reign, Fawkes de Breaute and the adherents of Simon de Montfort had been spared by men flushed with victory and exasperated with a long strife. There were some circumstances to palliate David's treachery, if, as is probable, his charges against the English justiciary have any truth. We may well acquit Edward of that vilest infirmity of weak minds, which confounds strength with ferocity and thinks that the foundations of law can be laid in blood. He probably received David's execution as a measure demanded by justice and statesmanship, and in which the whole nation was to be associated with its king. Never was court of justice more formally constituted; but it was a fatal precedent for himself, and the weaker, worse men who succeeded him. From that time, till within the last century, the axe of the executioner has never been absent from English history.

Edward was resolved to incorporate Wales with England. The children of Llewelyn and David were honorably and safely disposed of in monasteries, from which they never seem to have emerged. The great Welsh lords who had joined the rebellion were punished with deprivation of all their lands. Out of the conquered territory Denbigh and Ruthyn seem to have been made into march lordships under powerful Englishmen. Anglesey and the land of Snowdon, Llewelyn's territories of Carnarvon and Merionethshire, with Flint, Cardigan, and Carmarthenshire, were kept in the hands of the Crown. The Welsh divisions of commotes were retained, and several of these constituted a sheriffdom, which bore pretty much the same relation to an English shire that a Territory bears to a State in the American Union. The new districts were also brought more completely under English law than the marches, which retained their privileges and customs.

The changes, where we can trace them, seem to have been for the better. The blood-feud was abolished; widows obtained a dower; bastards were no longer to inherit; and in default of heirs male in the direct line, daughters were allowed to inherit. On the other hand, fines were to be assessed according to local custom; compurgation was retained for unimportant cases and inheritances were to remain divisible among all heirs male.

The ordinance that contains these dispositions is no parliamentary statute, but seems to have been drawn up by the King in council, March 24, 1284. It was based on the report of a commission which examined one hundred and seventy-two witnesses. Soon afterward an inquest was ordered to ascertain the losses sustained by the Church in Wales, with a view to giving it compensation.

Nor did Edward neglect appeals to the national sentiment. The supposed body of Constantine was disinterred at Carnarvon, and received honorable burial in a church. The crown of Arthur and a piece of the holy Cross, once the property of the Welsh princes, were added to the King's regalia. It was probably by design that Queen Eleanor was confined at Carnarvon, April 25, 1284, of a prince whom the Welsh might claim as a countryman.[74] At last, having lingered for more than a year about the principality, Edward celebrated the consummation of his conquests, August 1, 1284, by a splendid tournament at Nefyn, to which nobles and knights flocked from every part of England and even from Gascony. It was even more a demonstration of strength than a pageant.

The cost of the Welsh campaign must have been enormous, and it is difficult to understand how Edward met it. But no sort of expedient was spared. Commissioners were sent through England and Ireland to beg money of clergy and laity. Next, the cities of Guienne and Gascony were applied to; then, the money that had been collected for a crusade was taken out of the consecrated places where it was deposited. The treasures put in the Welsh churches were freely confiscated. Nevertheless, the Parliament of Shrewsbury granted the King a thirtieth, from which, however, the loans previously advanced were deducted. In return for this the King passed the Statute of Merchants, which made provisions for the registration of merchants' debts, their recovery by distraint, and the debtor's imprisonment. The clergy had at first been less compliant when the King applied to them for a tenth. The Convocation of the Province of Canterbury, April, 1283, replied that they were impoverished; that they still owed a fifteenth, and that they expected to be taxed again by the Pope. They also reminded him bitterly of the Statute of Mortmain. Ultimately the matter was compromised by the grant of a twentieth, November, 1283.



For a few years Wales was still an insecure portion of the English dominion. In 1287, Rees ap Meredith, whose services to Edward had been largely rewarded with grants of land and a noble English wife, commenced levying war against the king's sheriff. His excuse was that his baronial rights had been encroached upon; but as he had once risked forfeiture by preferring a forcible entry to the execution of the king's writ which had been granted him, we may probably assume that he claimed powers inconsistent with English sovereignty. After foiling the Earl of Cornwall in a costly campaign, Rees, finding himself outlawed, fled, by the Earl of Gloucester's complicity, into Ireland. Some years later he returned to resume his war with Robert de Tiptoft, but this time was taken prisoner and executed at York by Edward's orders, 1292.

More dangerous by far was the insurrection of two years later, 1294, when the Welsh, irritated by a tax, and believing that Edward had sailed for France, rose up throughout the crown lands and slew one of the collectors, Roger de Pulesdon. Madoc, a kinsman of Llewelyn, was put forward as king, and his troops burned Carnarvon castle and inflicted a severe defeat on the English forces sent to relieve Denbigh, November 10th. Edward now took the field in person, and resumed his old policy of cutting down the forests as he forced his way into the interior. The Welsh fought well, and between disease and fighting the English lost many hundred men. Once the King was surrounded at Conway, his provisions intercepted, and his road barred by a flood; but his men could not prevail on him to drink out of the one cask of wine that had been saved. "We will all share alike," he said, "and I, who have brought you into this strait, will have no advantage of you in food." The flood soon abated, and, reinforcements coming up, the Welsh were dispersed. Faithful to his policy of mercy, the King spared the people everywhere, but hanged three of their captains who were taken prisoners. Madoc lost heart, made submission, and was admitted to terms. Meanwhile, Morgan, another Welshman of princely blood, had headed a war in the marches against the Earl of Gloucester, who was personally unpopular with his vassals. Two years before the earldom had been confiscated into the King's hands, and it is some evidence that Edward's rule was not oppressive, by comparison with that of his lords, that the marchmen now desired to be made vassals of the crown. Morgan is said to have been hunted down by his old confederate, Madoc, but it seems more probable that he was the first to sue for peace. He was pardoned without reserve.

As there was then war with Scotland, hostages were taken from the Welsh chiefs, and were kept in English castles for several years. But the last lesson had proved effectual. The Welsh settled down peaceably on their lands and generally adopted the English customs. Except a few great lords, their gentry were still the representatives of their old families. Only five men in all had received the last punishment of the law for sanguinary rebellions extending over eighteen years of the King's reign. Of any massacre of the bards, or any measures taken to repress them, history knows nothing.

Never was conquest more merciful than Edward's, and the fault lies with his officers, not with the King, if many years still passed before the old quarrel between Wales and England was obliterated from the hearts of the conquered people.



JAPANESE REPEL THE TARTARS

A.D. 1281

E.H. PARKER

MARCO POLO



Kublai Khan, the first of the Mongol emperors who reigned at Peking, and Kameyama, the ninetieth emperor—as reputed—of Japan, are supposed to have come to their respective thrones in the same year, 1260. At this period the Japanese rulers (mikados) were mere puppets in the hands of their shoguns—hereditary commanders-in-chief of the army—and the shoguns themselves were tools of the regents of the Hojo dynasty.

Corea had lately been made tributary to the Tartar or Mongol power, when some of the Coreans in the service of Kublai Khan suggested to him that his way was now open to Japan, 1265. Next year Kublai selected a chief envoy whose name, as Parker says, appears in Chinese characters precisely the same as that of Sir Robert Hart,[75] and whom the author of the narrative immediately following, in order to avoid uncouth names, designates as "Hart." By this envoy Kublai sent a letter to Japan, and this act was the beginning of the execution of his designs against that country, formed upon the advice of the Coreans. In this letter the Mongol Emperor called upon Japan to return to the vassal duty which for centuries, he claimed, she had formerly owned to China. —EDWARD HARPER PARKER

The King of Corea, who had meanwhile been instructed to show the road to the Mongol mission, provided it with two high officers as escort. In 1267, however, Hart and his staff returned to Peking from their wanderings, re injecta, faithfully accompanied by their Corean guides, whose explanations as to why the goal had not been reached were by no means satisfactory to Kublai. The whole party was despatched once more to Corea, carrying with them to the King positive instructions "to succeed better this time."

The wily King of Corea now adopted another tack. He pleaded that the sea-route was beset with dangers to which it would be unseemly to expose the person of an imperial envoy, but he accommodatingly sent the Emperor's letter on to Japan by an envoy of his own. This Corean envoy was detained half a year by the Japanese, but he had also to return empty-handed. Meanwhile the King of Corea sent his own brother on a special mission to Kublai, to endeavor to mollify his Tartar majesty.

In the autumn of 1268 Hart and his former assistant colleague were sent a third time. As a surveying party had meanwhile been examining the sea-route by way of Quelpaert Island, the mission was enabled to reach the Tsushima Islands this time; but the local authority would not suffer them to land, or at least to stay, nor were the letters accepted, as, in the opinion of the Japanese, "the phraseology was not considered sufficiently modest." Once more the unsuccessful mission returned to Peking, but on this occasion it was with two Japanese "captives"—probably spies; for there is plenty of evidence that even then the art was well understood in Japan. In the summer of 1269 it was resolved to utilize these captives as a peg whereon to hang the conciliatory and virtuous act of returning them. Coreans were intrusted with this mission; but even this letter the Japanese declined to receive, and the envoys were detained a considerable time in the official prisons at Dazai Fu (in Chikuzen).

Early in the year 1270 a Manchu Tartar in Kublai's employ, named Djuyaoka, who had already been employed as a kind of resident or adviser at the court of the King of Corea, was despatched on a solemn mission to Japan, having earnestly volunteered for his new service in spite of his gray hairs. The King of Corea was again ordered to assist, and a Corean in Chinese employ, named Hung Ts'a-k'iu (Marco Polo's Von-Sanichin), was told to demonstrate with a fleet around the Liao-Tung and Corean peninsulas. The envoy is usually called by his adopted Chinese name of Chao Liang-Pih. The mission landed in the spring of 1271 at an island called Golden Ford, which, according to the Chinese characters, ought, I suppose, to be pronounced Kananari in Japanese. Here the strangers met with a very rough reception. The Tartar, however, kept his head well during the various attempts which were made to frighten him; he pointed out the historical precedents to be found in the annals of previous Chinese dynasties, and firmly declined to surrender his credentials except at the chief seat of government, and to the king or ruler in person. It seems that even the Japanese now began to see that the "honest broker," Corea, was playing false to both sides; at all events, they said that "Corea had reported the imminence of a Chinese attack, whereas Kublai's language seemed to deprecate war." Officials from head-quarters explained that "from ancient times till now, no foreign envoy has ever gone east of the Dazai Fu." The reply to this was: "If I cannot see your ruler, you had better take him my head; but you shall not have my documents." The Japanese pleaded that it was too far to the ruler's capital, but that in the mean time they would send officers back with him to China. He was thereupon sent back to await events at Tsushima, and, having remained there a year, he arrived back in Peking in the summer of 1273. In escorting him to Tsushima, the Japanese had sent with him a number of secondary officials to have an audience of Kublai; it appears that the Japanese had been alarmed at the establishment of a Mongol garrison at Kin Chow (I suppose the one near Port Arthur, then within Corean dominions); and the Tartar envoy, during his stay in Tsushima, now sent on these Japanese "envoys" (or spies) in advance, advising Kublai at the same time to humor Japanese susceptibilities by removing the Kin Chow garrison. The cabinet council suggested to Kublai that it would be a good thing to explain to the Japanese envoys that the occupation of Kin Chow was "only temporary," and would be removed so soon as the operations now in process against Quelpaert were at an end. It is related that the "Japanese interpreters"—which probably means Chinese accompanying the Japanese—explained to Kublai that it was quite unnecessary to go round via Corea, and that with a good wind it was possible to reach Japan in a very short time. Kublai said, "Then I must think it over afresh." Late in the year 1273 the same Tartar envoy was once more sent to Japan, but it is not stated by what route or where he first landed; this time he really reached the Dazai Fu, or capital of Chikuzen. In the same year, and possibly in connection with the above mission, a Chinese general, Lu T'ung, with a force of forty thousand men in nine hundred boats, defeated one hundred thousand Japanese—it is not stated where. I am inclined to think, from the consonance of the word Liu and the nine hundred boats, that this must be the affair mentioned lower down. The Manchu Tartar envoy seems to have been a very sensible sort of man, for not only did he bring back with him full details of the names and titles of the Mikado and his ministers, descriptions of the cities and districts, particulars of national customs, local products, etc., but also strongly dissuaded Kublai from engaging in a useless war with Japan; and he also gave some excellent advice to the celebrated Mongol general Bayen, who was just then preparing to "finish off" the southern provinces of China. It may not be generally known, but it is a fact that Bayen himself, in the late autumn of 1273, had been originally destined for the Japanese expedition, and the prisoners captured at the first attack on Siaag-yang Fu (Marco Polo's Sa-yan Fu) had already been handed over to him for service in Japan. The Mongol history also gives a full copy of the letter sent to Japan on this occasion. In it Kublai expresses his surprise at the persistent ignoring by Japan of his successive missions; he charitably suggests that "perhaps the fresh troubles and revolutions in Corea, which have now once more been settled, are more to blame than your own deliberate intentions." The menace of war was a little stronger than in the letter of 1266, but was still decently veiled and somewhat guarded. Before starting, the Manchu had requested that the etiquette to be observed at his audience with the ruler might be laid down. The cabinet council, to be on the safe side, advised: "As the relative ranks prevailing in the country are unknown to us, we have no definite etiquette to specify." On the other hand, both Kublai and his ministers were much too sharp to believe in the power of the "guard-house west of the Dazai Fu," and they came to the sensible conclusion that the Japanese "envoys" were simply war-spies sent by the supreme Japanese government itself.

Chinese history does not explain why, amid the conflicting counsels exposed above, and others mentioned in biographical chapters, Kublai decided to attack Japan at the very moment when Bayen was marching upon South China; but, anyway, during the year 1274, large numbers of Manchus were raised for service in Japan, and placed under General Hung. (Sani-chin may perhaps stand for the Chinese word Tsiang-chun, or "general.") It appears that, toward the end of that year, fifteen thousand men in nine hundred ships made a raid upon some point in Japan; but, although "a victory" is claimed, no details whatever are given beyond the facts that "our army showed a lack of order; the arrows were exhausted; we achieved nothing beyond plundering." The three islands raided were Tsushima, Iki, and one I cannot identify, described in Chinese as I-man.

The Japanese annals confirm the attack upon Tsushima and Iki, adding that the enemy slew all the males and carried off all the females in the two islands, but were unsuccessful in their advance upon the Dazai Fu. The enemy's general, Liu Fu-heng, was slain; the enemy numbered thirty thousand. The slain officer was, perhaps, a relative of Liu T'ung, who served again in China.

In the year 1275 two more envoys bearing Chinese names were sent with letters to Japan, "but they also got no reply." The Japanese annals confirm this, and add that "they came to discuss terms of peace, but their envoy, Tu Shi-chung—whose name corresponds—was decapitated." This is true, but he was not decapitated until 1280, and, as is well known to competent students, Japanese history is always open to suspicion when it conflicts with Chinese, and too often "touches up" from Chinese.

In 1277 some merchants from Japan appeared in China with a quantity of gold, which they desired to exchange for copper cash. The following year the "coast authorities"—probably meaning at Ningpo and Wenchow, where even now, as I found in 1884, immense quantities of old Japanese copper cash are in daily use—were instructed to permit Japanese trade. But preparations for war still went on, and the head-quarters of the army were fixed at Liao-yang, where General Kuropatkin fixed his more recently. Naval preparations were particularly active during 1279, and Corea was invited to make arrangements for boats to be built in that country, where timber was so plentiful—evidently alluding to the Russian "concessions" on the Yalu. Large numbers of ships were also constructed in Central China. During this year a defeated Chinese general in Mongol employ, named Fan Wen-hu, advised that the war against Japan should be postponed "until the result of our mission, accompanied by the Japanese priest carrying our letters, shall be known." When this priest was appointed, by whom, and to do what, there is nothing to show. To a certain extent this enigmatical sentence is supported by the Japanese annals, which announce that "in the summer of 1279 the Mongol generals Hia Kwei and Fan Wen-hu came and sent aides-de-camp to Dazai Fu to discuss peace, but Tokimune (the regent) had them decapitated at Hakata in Chikuzen."

Hia Kwei was certainly another defeated Chinese general, but I do not think he ever went to Japan. It is in the spring of 1280 that the Chinese record the execution by the Japanese of "Tu Shi-chung," etc. But it is quite evident that Fan Wen-hu cannot possibly have been executed in 1279, for later on, in 1280, after Hung Ts'a-k'iu and others had been appointed to the Japan expedition, "it was decided to wait a little, and Fan Wen-hu was consulted as to the best means of attack; meanwhile prisoners of war, criminals, Mussulmans, etc., were enlisted, and volunteers were called for." It is difficult to account for "Mussulmans" in such company, for the villanous "Saracen" Achmat was just then at the height of his power. The King of Corea meanwhile personally paid a visit to Peking, and gave the assurance that he was raising thirty thousand extra soldiers to serve in the Japan war. Fan Wen-hu was now placed in supreme command of one hundred thousand men. "The King of Corea with ten thousand soldiers, fifteen thousand sea-men, nine hundred war-ships, and one hundred and ten thousand hundred-weight of grain, proceeded against Japan. Hung Ts'a-k'iu and his colleagues were provided with weapons, Corean armor, jackets, etc. The troops were given strict instructions not to harass the inhabitants of Corea. Corean generals received high rank, and the King was given extra honors."

In 1281 the generals Hung Ts'a-k'iu and Hintu (a Ouigour Turk) went in command of a naval force of forty thousand men via "Kin Chouin Corea." Another force of one hundred thousand men was sent across the sea from modern Ningpo and Tinghai, the two forces arranging to meet at the islands of Iki and Hirado.

Alouhan (a Mongol) and Fan Wen-hu received in anticipation the honorary titles of "Left and Right Governors of Japan province"; and when they and the other generals took leave of Kublai, the Emperor said: "As they had sent us envoys first, we also sent envoys thither; but then they kept our envoys, and would not let them go; hence I send you, gentlemen, on this errand. I understand the Chinese say that when you take another people's country, you need to get both the people and the land. If you go and slay all the people, and only secure the land, what use is that? There is another matter, upon which I feel truly anxious—that is, I fear want of harmony among you, gentlemen! If the natives of that country come to discuss any matter with you, gentlemen, you should join your minds for one common plan, and reply as though one mouth only had to speak."

When the army, after a week's sail from Tinghai, reached the islands of Ku-tsi (off Masanpho) and Tsushima, some Japanese stranded fishermen were caught and forced to sketch a map of the localities; and meanwhile it had been agreed that the island of Iki was a better rendezvous than "Kin Chou in Corea," on account of the then prevailing winds. From the Japanese sailors' sketch it appeared that a little west of the Dazai Fu was the island of Hirado, which, being surrounded on all sides with plenty of water, afforded a good anchorage for the ships. It was decided—subject, apparently, to Kublai's approval—to occupy Hirado first, and then summon General Hung, etc., from Iki, to join in a general attack. Kublai replied by the messenger in effect: "I cannot judge here of the situation there. I presume Alouhan and his colleagues ought to know, and they must decide for themselves."

Meanwhile Alouhan—written also Alahan—had fallen sick, and died at Ningpo, and another Mongol, named Atahai—written also Antahai—was sent to replace him. Now comes the sudden collapse of the whole expedition, recorded, unfortunately, in most laconic and unsatisfactory terms.

I give the various extracts in extenso:

1. Chapter on Japan.—"Eighth moon. The generals, having before coming in sight of the enemy lost their entire force, got back. They said that, 'having reached Japan, they wished to attack Dazai Fu, but that a violent wind smashed the ships. That they were still bent on discussing operations, when three of the commanders [Chinese names] declined to accept their orders any more, and made off. The provincial staff conveyed the rest of the army to Hoh P'u [probably = Masanpho], whence they were dismissed back to their homes.' But one of the defeated soldiers, who succeeded in escaping home, gave the following account: 'The imperial armies in the 6th moon put to sea. In the 7th moon they reached Hirado Island, and then moved to Five Dragon Mountains [the Japanese pronunciation would be Go-riu Shima, or Yama, and perhaps it means the Goto Islands]. On the 1st of the 8th moon the wind smashed the ships. On the 5th day Fan Wen-hu and the other generals each made selection of the soundest and best boats, and got into them, and abandoned the soldiers, to the number of over one hundred thousand, at the foot of the hills. The soldiers then agreed to select the centurion Chang as general in command, and styled him 'General Chang,' submitting themselves to his orders. They were just engaged in cutting down trees to make boats to come back in, when, on the 7th day, the Japanese came and gave battle. All were killed except 20,000 or 30,000 who were carried off prisoners. On the 9th day these got to the Eight Horn Islands [the Japanese pronunciation would be Hakkaku Shima], where all the Mongols, Coreans, and men of Han [—North China] were massacred. As it was understood that the newly recruited army consisted of men of T'ang [= Cantonese, etc.], they were not killed, but turned into slaves, of whom deponent was one. The trouble arose from want of harmony and subordination in the general staff, in consequence of which they abandoned the troops and returned. After some time two other stragglers got back; that is out of a host of 100,000 only three ever returned.'"

2. Chapter on the Ouigour General, Siang-wei.—"In 1281 the sea-force of 100,000 men under Fan Wen-hu, etc., took seven days and nights to reach Bamboo Island [the Japanese pronunciation would be Chikushima; perhaps is another form of Tsushima], where they effected a junction with the forces of the provincial staff from Liao-yang. It was the intention to first attack the Dazai Fu, but there was vacillation and indecision. On the 1st day of the 8th moon a great typhoon raged, and 60 or 70 per cent. of the army perished. The Emperor was furious, etc."

3. Chapter on Li T'ing, a Shan Tung man, who was on Fan Wen-hu's staff.—"In 1281 the army encamped on Bamboo Island, but, a storm arising, the vessels were all smashed. Li T'ing escaped ashore on a piece of wreckage, collected the remains of the host, and returned via Corea to Peking. Only 10 to 20 per cent. of the soldiers escaped alive [apparently referring to the 40,000, not to the 100,000]."

4. Chapter on the Chih-Li-man-Chang-Hi.—"He accompanied Fan Wen-hu and Li T'ing with the naval force which crossed the sea against Japan. Chang Hi, on arrival, at once left his boats, and set to work intrenching on the island of Hirado. He also kept his war-ships at anchor at a cable's length from each other, so as to avoid the destructive action of wind and waves. When the great typhoon arose in the 8th moon, the galleons of Fan and Li were all smashed; only Chang Hi's escaped uninjured. When Fan Wen-hu, etc., suggested going back, Chang Hi said: 'Half the soldiers are drowned, but those who have escaped death are all sturdy troops. Surely it is better for us to take advantage of this moment, before they have begun to think regretfully of home, to live on the enemy's country and advance?' Fan Wen-hu, etc., would not agree to this and said: 'When we see the Emperor, we will bear all the blame; you have no share in it.' Chang Hi gave them a number of his boats. At that instant there were 4,000 soldiers encamped on Hirado Island without any boats. Chang Hi said, 'How can I bear to leave them?' And then he jettisoned all the seventy horses in the boats in order to enable them to get back. When they got to Peking, Fan Wen-hu, etc., were all disgraced. Only Chang Hi escaped punishment."

5. Chapter on Ch'u Ting, an An Hwei man.—"He was with Fan Wen-hu's force when the sudden storm arose. His craft was smashed, but Ch'u Ting got hold of a piece of wreckage, and drifted about for three days and three nights, until he fell in with Fan Wen-hu's ship at a certain island, and was thus able to get to Kin Chou in Corea. The soldiers encamped in the Hoh P'u bay also drifted in, and were collected and taken home by him."

Chapter on Hung Tsun-k'i, alias Hung Ts'a-k'iu, a Corean of ancient Chinese descent.—"[After recounting how Kublai placed him in charge of the well-disposed Corean troops, how he served in the Corean and Quelpaert campaigns, and against Japan in 1274 and 1277, the Mongol History goes on:] In 1281, in company with Hintu [a Ouigour], he led a naval force of 40,000 men via Kin Chou and Hoh-P'u in Corea to join the 100,000 men coming by sea from Ningpo under Fan Wen-hu. Forces were joined at the Iki, Hirado, and other islands of Japan; but before the hostile forces were encountered, in the 8th month, a storm smashed the ships, and he returned."

Extract from Japanese Riokuji, or Historical Handbook.—"In the 5th moon of 1281 the Mongols raided us on a wholesale scale. Our troops were unsuccessful in resisting them at Iki and Tsushima. The enemy advanced and occupied Five Dragon Mountains in Hizen. The Hojo-tandai led the troops bravely to the fight. The enemy retired upon Takashima. In the intercalary 7th moon a great wind blew. The enemy's war-ships were all broken to pieces. Our troops energetically attacked and cut them up, the sea being covered with prostrate corpses. Of the Mongol army of 100,000 only three men got back alive. Henceforward the Mongols were unable to pry about our coasts again."

MARCO POLO

Of so great celebrity was the wealth of Cipango (Japan), that a desire was excited in the breast of the grand khan Kublai, now reigning, to make the conquest of it, and to annex it to his dominions. In order to effect this, he fitted out a numerous fleet, and embarked a large body of troops, under the command of two of his principal officers, one of whom was named Abba-catan, and the other Vonsancin.[76]

The expedition sailed from the ports of Zaitun and Kinsai,[77] and, crossing the intermediate sea, reached the island in safety; but in consequence of a jealousy that arose between the two commanders, one of whom treated the plans of the other with contempt and resisted the execution of his orders, they were unable to gain possession of any city or fortified place, with the exception of one only, which was carried by assault, the garrison having refused to surrender.

Directions were given for putting the whole to the sword, and in obedience thereto the heads of all were cut off, excepting of eight persons, who, by the efficacy of a diabolical charm, consisting of a jewel or amulet introduced into the right arm, between the skin and the flesh, were rendered secure from the effects of iron, either to kill or wound, Upon this discovery being made, they were beaten with a heavy wooden club, and presently died.[78]

It happened, after some time, that a north wind began to blow with great force, and the ships of the Tartars, which lay near the shore of the island, were driven foul of each other. It was determined thereupon, in a council of the officers on board, that they ought to disengage themselves from the land; and accordingly, as soon as the troops were re-embarked, they stood out to sea. The gale, however, increased to so violent a degree that a number of the vessels foundered. The people belonging to them, by floating upon pieces of the wreck, saved themselves upon an island lying about four miles from the coast of Cipango.

The other ships, which, not being so near to the land, did not suffer from the storm, and in which the two chiefs were embarked, together with the principal officers, or those whose rank entitled them to command a hundred thousand or ten thousand men, directed their course homeward, and returned to the Grand Khan.

Those of the Tartars who remained upon the island where they were wrecked, and who amounted to about thirty thousand men, finding themselves left without shipping, abandoned by their leaders, and having neither arms nor provisions, expected nothing less than to become captives or to perish; especially as the island afforded no habitations where they could take shelter and refresh themselves. As soon as the gale ceased and the sea became smooth and calm, the people from the main island of Cipango came over with a large force, in numerous boats, in order to make prisoners of these shipwrecked Tartars, and, having landed, proceeded in search of them, but in a straggling, disorderly manner. The Tartars, on their part, acted with prudent circumspection, and, being concealed from view by some high land in the centre of the island, while the enemy were hurrying in pursuit of them by one road, made a circuit of the coast by another, which brought them to the place where the fleet of boats was at anchor. Finding these all abandoned, but with their colors flying, they instantly seized them, and, pushing off from the island, stood for the principal city of Cipango, into which, from the appearance of the colors, they were suffered to enter unmolested.[79]

Here they found few of the inhabitants besides women, whom they retained for their own use, and drove out all others. When the King was apprised of what had taken place, he was much afflicted, and immediately gave directions for a strict blockade of the city, which was so effectual that not any person was suffered to enter or to escape from it during six months that the siege continued. At the expiration of this time the Tartars, despairing of succor, surrendered upon the condition of their lives being spared.

These events took place in the course of the year 1264.[80] The Grand Khan having learned some years after that the unfortunate issue of the expedition was to be attributed to the dissension between the two commanders, caused the head of one of them to be cut off; the other he sent to the savage island of Zorza,[81] where it is the custom to execute criminals in the following manner. They are wrapped round both arms, in the hide of a buffalo fresh taken from the beast, which is sewed tight. As this dries, it compresses the body to such a degree that the sufferer is incapable of moving or in any manner helping himself, and thus miserably perishes.



THE SICILIAN VESPERS

A.D. 1282

MICHELE AMARI[82]



Under Frederic II, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Sicily had been governed wisely. His son Conrad succeeded him as King of Sicily in 1250, but went to Germany, where his crown was being contested by William of Holland, leaving his illegitimate brother Manfred to administer Sicily. Conrad and his brother Henry died in 1254. Manfred continued to rule Sicily as regent for his nephew Conradin, son of Conrad, but in 1258, upon a rumor of Conradin's death, assumed the crown.

Pope Alexander IV and his successor Urban IV, a Frenchman, would not recognize Manfred as ruler. Urban offered the Sicilian crown to a brother of Louis IX of France, Charles, Count of Anjou, who promised to hold Sicily as a fief of the holy see. Charles was compelled to conquer his new kingdom, and with a large army of Frenchmen invaded Sicily. Manfred was defeated and slain in a sanguinary battle at Grandella, near Benevento, and Charles soon made himself master of the kingdom. Young Conradin was still living, but was defeated at Tagliacozzo in 1268, and was beheaded at Naples by order of Charles.

The French earned the scarcely veiled hatred of the Sicilians by their tyranny and cruelties, and a conspiracy arose to give the crown to Pedro, King of Aragon, who had married Constance, daughter of Manfred. Charles of Anjou was not ignorant of the fact that his throne was in danger, nor was he totally unprepared. The overthrow of the French power in Sicily, however, was precipitated by an incident at Palermo on Easter Monday, the 30th of March, 1282, which led to the wholesale massacre known to history as the "Sicilian Vespers," because of its commencement at the hour of vespers.

The Sicilians endured the French yoke—though cursing it—until the spring of 1282. The military preparations of the King of Aragon were not yet completed, nor, even if partially known in Sicily, could they inspire any immediate hope. The people were overawed by the immense armaments of Charles destined against Constantinople; and forty-two royal castles, either in the principal cities or in situations of great natural strength, served to keep the island in check. A still greater number were held by French feudatories; the standing troops were collected and in arms; and the feudal militia, composed in great part of foreign subfeudatories, waited only the signal to assemble. In such a posture of affairs, which the foresight of the prudent would never have selected for an outbreak, the officers of Charles continued to grind down the Sicilian people, satisfied that their patience would endure forever.

New outrages shed a gloom over the festival of Easter at Palermo, the ancient capital of the kingdom, detested by the strangers more than any other city as being the strongest and the most deeply injured. Messina was the seat of the King's viceroy in Sicily, Herbert of Orleans; Palermo was governed by the Justiciary of Val di Mazzara, John of St. Remigio, a minister worthy of Charles. His subalterns, worthy both of the Justiciary and of the King, had recently launched out into fresh acts of rapine and violence. But the people submitted. It even went so far that the citizens of Palermo, seeking comfort from God amid their worldly tribulations, and having entered a church to pray, in that very church, on the days sacred to the memory of the Saviour's passion, and amid the penitential rites, were exposed to the most cruel outrages. The ban-dogs of the exchequer searched out among them those who had failed in the payment of the taxes, dragged them forth from the sacred edifice, manacled, and bore them to prison, crying out, insultingly, before the multitude attracted to the spot, "Pay, faterini, pay!" And the people still submitted.

The Monday after Easter, which fell on the 30th of March, there was a festival at the Church of Santo Spirito. On that occasion a heinous outrage against the liberties of the Sicilians afforded the impulse, and the patience of the people gave way.

Half a mile from the southern wall of the city, on the brink of the ravine of Oreto, stands a church dedicated to the Holy Ghost, concerning which the Latin fathers have not failed to record that on the day on which the first stone of it was laid, in the twelfth century, the sun was darkened by an eclipse. On one side of it were the precipice and the river; on the other, the plain extending to the city, which in the present day is in great part divided by walls and dotted with gardens; while a square enclosure of moderate size, shaded by dusky cypresses, honeycombed with tombs, and adorned with urns and other sepulchral monuments, surrounds the church. This is a public cemetery, laid out toward the end of the eighteenth century, and fearfully filled in three weeks by the dire pestilence which devastated Sicily in 1837. On the Tuesday following Easter, at the hour of vespers, religion and custom drew crowds of people to this cheerful plain, then carpeted with the flowers of spring. Citizens, wending their way toward the church, divided into numerous groups. They walked, sat in clusters, spread the tables, or danced upon the grass; and—whether it were a defect or a merit of the Sicilian character—threw off, for the moment, the recollection of their sufferings.

Suddenly the followers of the Justiciary appeared among them, and every bosom thrilled with a shudder of disgust. The strangers came with their usual insolent demeanor, as they said, to maintain tranquillity; and for this purpose they mingled with the groups, joined in the dances, and familiarly accosted the women; pressing the hand of one, taking unwarranted liberties with others; addressing indecent words and gestures to those more distant, until some temperately admonished them to depart, in God's name, without insulting the women; and others murmured angrily; but the hot-blooded youths raised their voices so fiercely that the soldiers said to one another, "These insolent paterini must be armed, that they dare thus to answer," and replied to them with the most offensive insults, insisting, with great insolence, on searching them for arms, and even here and there striking them with sticks or thongs. Every heart already throbbed fiercely on either side, when a young woman, of singular beauty and of modest and dignified deportment, appeared with her husband and relations, bending her steps toward the church. Drouet, a Frenchman, impelled either by insolence or license, approached her as if to examine her for concealed weapons; seized her and searched her bosom. She fell fainting into her husband's arms, who, in a voice almost choked with rage, exclaimed, "Death, death to the French!" At the same moment a youth burst from the crowd which had gathered round them, sprang upon Drouet, disarmed and slew him; and probably, at the same moment, paid the penalty by the loss of his own life, leaving his name unknown and the mystery forever unsolved—whether it were love for the injured woman, the impulse of a generous heart, or the more exalted flame of patriotism that prompted him thus to give the signal of deliverance.

Noble example has a power far beyond that of argument or eloquence to rouse the people; and the erstwhile abject slaves awoke at length from their long bondage. "Death, death to the French!" they cried; and the cry—say the historians of the time—reechoed, like the voice of God, through the whole country, and found an answer in every heart.

Above the corpse of Drouet were heaped those of the slain on either side. The crowd expanded itself, closed in, and swayed hither and thither in wild confusion. The Sicilians, with sticks, stones, and knives, rushed with desperate ferocity upon their fully armed opponents. They sought for them and hunted them down. Fearful tragedies were enacted amid the preparations for festivity, and the overthrown tables were drenched with blood. The people displayed their strength and conquered. The struggle was brief, and great the slaughter of the Sicilians; but of the French there were two hundred—and two hundred fell!

Breathless, covered with blood, brandishing the plundered weapons, and proclaiming the insult and its vengeance, the insurgents rushed toward the tranquil city, "Death to the French!" they shouted, and as many as they found were put to the sword. The example, the words, the contagion of passion, in an instant aroused the whole people. In the heat of the tumult Roger Mastrangelo, a nobleman, was chosen—or constituted himself—their leader. The multitude continued to increase; dividing into troops they scoured the streets, burst open doors, searched every nook, every hiding-place, and shouting "Death to the French!" smote them and slew them, while those too distant to strike added to the tumult by their applause. On the outbreak of this sudden uproar the Justiciary had taken refuge in his strong palace; the next moment it was surrounded by an enraged multitude crying aloud for his death; they demolished the defences and rushed furiously in, but the Justiciary escaped them. Favored by the confusion and the closing darkness, he succeeded, though wounded in the face, in mounting his horse unobserved, with only two attendants, and fled with all speed. Meanwhile the slaughter continued with increased ferocity; even the darkness of night failed to arrest it, and it was resumed the next day more furiously than ever. Nor did it finally cease because the thirst for vengeance was slaked, but because victims were wanting to appease it. Two thousand French perished in this first outbreak. Even Christian burial was denied them, but pits were afterward dug to receive their despised remains, and tradition still points out a column surmounted by an iron cross, raised by compassionate piety on one of these spots, probably long after the perpetration of the deed of vengeance.

Tradition, moreover, relates that the sound of a word, like the Shibboleth of the Hebrews, was the cruel test by which the French were distinguished in the massacre; and that, if there were found a suspicious or unknown person, he was compelled, with a sword to his throat, to pronounce the word ciciri, and the slightest foreign accent was the signal for his death. Forgetful of their own character, and as if stricken by fate, the gallant warriors of France neither fled nor united nor defended themselves. They unsheathed their swords and presented them to their assailants, imploring, as if in emulation of each other, to be the first to die. Of one common soldier it is recorded that, having concealed himself behind a wainscot, and being dislodged at the sword's point, he resolved not to die unavenged, and, springing forth with a wild cry upon the ranks of his enemies, slew three of them before he himself perished. The insurgents broke into the convents of the Minorites and Preaching Friars, and slaughtered all the monks whom they recognized as French. Even the altars afforded no protection; tears and prayers were alike unheeded; neither old men, women, nor infants were spared. The ruthless avengers of the ruthless massacre of Agosta swore to root out the seed of the French oppressors throughout the whole of Sicily; and this vow they cruelly fulfilled, slaughtering infants at their mothers' breasts and after them the mothers themselves, not sparing even pregnant women, but, with a horrible refinement of cruelty, ripping up the bodies of Sicilian women who were with child by French husbands, and dashing against the stones the fruit of the mingled blood of the oppressors and the oppressed. This general massacre of all who spoke the same language, and these heinous acts of cruelty, have caused the Sicilian Vespers to be classed among the most infamous of national crimes.

The very atrocity of the Vespers proved the salvation of Sicily, by cutting off all possibility of compromise. On that same bloodstained night of the 31st of March, the people of Palermo assembled in parliament, and, divided between the triumph of vengeance and terror at their own daring act, advanced still more decidedly in the path they had chosen. They abolished monarchy, and resolved to establish a commonwealth under the protection of the Church of Rome. They were moved to this determination by deadly hatred against Charles and his government, and the recollection of the stern rule of the Swabian dynasty on the one hand, and, on the other, by grateful remembrance of the liberty enjoyed in 1254; by the example of the Tuscan and Lombard republics, and by the natural pride of a powerful city, which having freed itself from a detested yoke confided in its own strength. The name of the Church was added in order to disarm the wrath of the Pope, to tempt his ambition, or to justify the rebellion under the pretext that in driving out their more immediate but criminal ruler they contemplated no infraction of loyalty to the suzerain from whom he held his power. Roger Mastrangelo, Henry Barresi, and Niccoloso of Ortoleva (knights), and Niccolo of Ebdemonia were proclaimed captains of the people with five counsellors. By the glare of torchlight on the bloody ground, amid the noise and throng of the armed multitude, and with all the sublime pomp of tumult, the republican magistrates were inaugurated. Trumpets and Moorish kettle-drums sounded, and thousands upon thousands of voices uttered the joyous cry of "The Republic and Liberty!" The ancient banner of the city—a golden eagle in a red field—was unfolded to wave amid new glories; and in homage to the Church the keys of St. Peter were quartered upon it.

At midnight, John of St. Remigio stayed his rapid flight at Vicari, a castle thirty miles distant from the capital; where, knocking loudly and hurriedly, he was with difficulty recognized by the garrison, half-drunk from the celebration of the same festival which had bred so fearful a slaughter in Palermo. Having admitted him, they were transfixed with amazement at seeing their Justiciary at so unreasonable an hour, unescorted, breathless, and covered with blood. John refused all explanation at the time, but the next morning at daybreak he called to arms all the French of the neighborhood—a feudal militia well inured to warfare—and breaking silence urged them to resist, and perhaps to avenge, the fate of their comrades. It was not long before the forces of Palermo, which had set out at dawn in pursuit of the fugitive—whose traces they had discovered—arrived at full speed beneath the walls of Vicari, and surrounded the city in disorder, impatient for the assault; but not perceiving how it was to be made, they had recourse to threats, and demanded immediate surrender, promising to the inhabitants the safety of their persons, and to John and his followers permission, on laying down their arms, to embark for Aigues-Mortes, in Provence. They, however, disdaining such conditions, and regarding the mob of assailants with contempt, made a vigorous sortie. At first military discipline obtained the advantage, and the Sicilians gave way, but the tide of battle was turned by a power beyond that of human skill, by the spirit which had given birth to the Vespers, and which suddenly blazed up again in the scattered squadrons. They paused—they looked at one another, "Death—death to the French!" they cried, and rushing upon them with irresistible fury, they drove back the veteran warriors into the fortress, defeated and in confusion. After this it was in vain that the French proposed terms of surrender. Heedless of the rules of war the young archers of Cacamo shot the Justiciary as he presented himself upon the walls, and, seeing him fall, the whole multitude rushed to the assault, occupied the fortress, put the garrison to the sword, and flung their corpses, piecemeal, to the dogs and to the vultures. This done, the host returned to Palermo.

Meanwhile, the fame of what had occurred spread rapidly from town to town, and the first in that neighborhood to rise was Corleone, as chief in population and importance, and also because of its numerous Lombard inhabitants, who held the names of Angevins and Guelfs in abhorrence, and of the intolerable burdens imposed upon it by the near neighborhood of the royal farms. This city, afterward surnamed the Valiant, boldly following the example of the capital, sent William Basso, William Corto, and Giugliono de Miraldo as orators to Palermo, to propose terms of alliance and fraternity between the two cities; mutual assistance in arms, forces, and money; reciprocal privileges of citizenship, and enfranchisement from all burdens laid upon such as were not citizens. It is not known whether the idea of the league originated with the republican rulers of Palermo or with the patriots of Corleone; but whichever may have been the case, it clearly exhibits the preponderance in those early days of the municipal tendency, and the exchange of feudal relations for the federal union of communities, the banner under which the revolution spread itself throughout the entire island. The assembled people of Palermo, with one voice, accepted the terms, and by their desire, on the 3d of April, they were sworn to on the Gospels by the captains and counsellors of the city, with the deputies of Corleone, and officially registered among the public acts; Palermo binding herself, moreover, to assist her ally in the destruction of the strong fortress of Calata Mauro.

Meanwhile, one Boniface, elected captain of the people of Corleone, went forth with three thousand men to scour the surrounding country. The royal farms were plundered and devastated; the herds, which had been carefully fattened for the army of the East, were confiscated to the service of the Sicilian revolution; the castles of the French were stormed, their houses sacked, and the massacre so ruthless that, according to Saba Malaspina, it seemed as if every man either had the death of a father, son, or brother to revenge, or firmly believed that the slaughter of a Frenchman was an act well pleasing to God. Thus, in a very few days, the movement propagated itself many miles around owing to the similarity of sentiments, the force of example, and the energy of the insurgents. In many places it assumed a character which must be inexplicable to those who, in spite of all that has been already stated, would persist in regarding these tumultuous outbreaks as the result of conspiracy; while the people showed the utmost readiness to put the foreigners to the sword, yet they feared to disown the name of King Charles. Their hesitation lasted but a few days, for they were carried away by the impulse of universal feeling and by the strength of the rebels; so that all, by degrees, declared themselves elected chiefs to lead their forces against the French, and captains of the people whom they sent to the capital, the fame of whose example had roused their courage, and which was now the centre of all their confidence, of all their hopes.

This first nucleus of the representatives of the nation being thus assembled in Palermo, they became imbued with the same valor which in one short night had raised a popular tumult to the dignity of a revolution. They were further encouraged by the manly energy of the people, who, mingled with insurgents from the surrounding towns, traversed the city to and fro, eagerly relating to one another the outrages they had suffered, and crying aloud, "Death rather than the yoke of the French!" So that no sooner were the syndics of the greater part of Val di Mazzara assembled in parliament, than they agreed to the establishment of the republican form of government conducted in the name of the Church. The people without responded with loud acclamations and shouts of "The Republic and Liberty!" All encouraged each other to venture everything, when Roger Mastrangelo, bent on urging them on so far that all retreat should be cut off and that they might be able to control the course of events, rose and boldly thus addressed the assembly:

"Citizens! I hear daring words and solemn oaths, but I see no symptoms of action, as if the blood that has been shed were the seal of victory rather than the provocation to a long and deadly struggle. Do you know Charles and his thousands of executioners, and can you yet amuse yourselves with the decoration of banners? Not far distant on the mainland are armies and navies ready for the Grecian war: there are the French panting for vengeance, and in a few days they will burst upon us. If they find our ports open for their disembarkation; if our inertness or our faults favor their progress they will soon spread throughout the whole of Sicily; they will subdue the irresolute people by force of arms, deceive them with reports of our unhappy divisions, seduce them with promises, and drag them back to the shameful yoke of bondage or drive them to raise their parricidal weapons against ourselves. You have sworn to die or to be free, and you will become slaves and will not all die—for the butchers will at length be weary—and will reserve the herd of survivors to exercise upon them their despotic will. Sicilians! remember the days of Conradin. To halt now will be destruction; to pursue our course, glory, and deliverance. Our forces are sufficient to raise the whole country as far as Messina, and Messina must not belong to the foe; we share the same origin, the same language, the same past glory and present shame, the same experience that slavery and misery are the result of division.

"All Sicily is stained with the blood of the strangers. She is strong in the courage of her sons, in the ruggedness of her mountains, in the protection of the seas, which are her bulwarks. Who then shall set foot upon her soil, except to find in it a yawning grave? Christ, who preached liberty to mankind, who inspired you to effect this blessed deliverance, now extends to you his almighty hand—if you will but act like men in your own defence. Citizens, captains of the people, it is my counsel that messengers be sent to all the other towns inviting them to unite with us for the maintenance of the commonwealth, that by force of arms, by daring, and by rapidity of action we should aid the weak, determine the doubtful, and combat the froward. For this purpose, let us divide into three bands which may simultaneously traverse the whole island, then let a general parliament mature our counsels, unite our views, and regulate the form of government; for I call God to witness that Palermo aspires, not to dominion, but seeks only liberty for all, and for herself the glory of being foremost in peril."

"And the people of Corleone," replied Boniface, "will follow the fortunes of this noble city—the fortress and ornament of Sicily. Corleone sends hither three thousand of her warriors to conquer or to die with you. But if our fate be to perish, let all those perish with us who would take part with the stranger in the day of the deliverance of Sicily. Thou, Roger, valiant in fight and sage in counsel, thou hast spoken words of safety. Henceforward he who lingers is a traitor to his country; let us arm ourselves and go forth."

"Forward, forward!" thundered the voice of the people in answer to his words, and with marvellous celerity the messengers were despatched; the forces assembled and sent forth in three divisions—one to the left toward Cefalu, one to the right upon Calatafimi, and the third toward the centre of the island, through Castro Giovanni. They displayed the banner of the commonwealth with the keys of St. Peter depicted around them, and their fame went before them, awakening hope and desire in all hearts. Hence every city and town unhesitatingly renounced its allegiance to Charles with a degree of unity which was admirable—except in regard to the slaughter of the French.

They were hunted down in the mountains and forests, assaulted and vanquished in the castles, and pursued with such fury that even to those who had escaped from the hands of the Sicilians life became a burden; and from the most impregnable fortresses, from the remotest hiding-places, they gave themselves up into the hands of the people who summoned them to die. Some even precipitated themselves from the towers of their strongholds. A very few, aided either by fortune or by their own valor, escaped with their lives, but were despoiled of everything, and these sought refuge in Messina. But the fate of William Porcelet merits especial remembrance. He was Lord or Governor of Calatafimi, and, amid the unbridled iniquity of his countrymen, was distinguished for justice and humanity. On the day of vengeance, in the full flush of its triumph and fury, the Palermitan host appeared at Calatafimi, and not only spared the life of William and of his family, but treated him with distinguished honor and sent him back to Provence—a fact which goes to prove, that for the excesses committed by the people, ample provocation had not been wanting.

Meanwhile the great object toward which every effort was directed was to gain over Messina to the cause of the revolution, for all comprehended the importance of her situation, of her seaport, and of the powerful and wealthy city herself—obviously marked out as the key-stone of the war—as well as the pressing necessity of obtaining her alliance or of making a desperate effort to subdue her by force of arms. Negotiations were therefore commenced. Of those which were private and the most efficacious no record has been handed down to us; but of those publicly conducted, a letter is still extant, dated from Palermo, the 13th of April, and despatched by messengers to Messina, which begins thus: "The Palermitans to the noble citizens of the illustrious city of Messina, bondsmen under Pharaoh in dust and mire—greeting, and deliverance from the servile yoke by the arm of liberty.

"Rise!" continues the epistle. "Rise, O daughter of Zion, and reassert thy former strength; ... cease thy lamentations, which only awaken contempt; take thy weapons, thy quiver and thy bow, and unbind the fetters from thy neck." It proceeds to speak of Charles as a Nero, a wolf, a lion, and a ferocious dragon; then reverting to Messina, it exclaims: "The voice of God says to thee, 'Take up thy bed and walk!' for thou art whole." And again it exhorts her citizens "to struggle with the old serpent, and, being regenerate, like new-born babes to suck the milk of liberty, to seek justice, and to fly from calamity and ignominy."

While the Palermitans sought to gain over the citizens by these Biblical metaphors, Herbert of Orleans strengthened himself with foreign arms and with the support of the Messinese nobles—who by abuses and oppression had exalted themselves above their fellow-citizens, and therefore now resolutely sided with the Vicar. But first he sent seven Messinese galleys to attack Palermo under the command of Richard de Riso, who in 1268 had dared with a few vessels to confront the whole Pisan fleet, and who was now to lose in civil war his honor as a citizen and his reputation as a leader; for uniting with four galleys from Amalfi, under the command of Matthew del Giudice and Roger of Salerno, he proceeded to blockade the port of Palermo, and, as he was unable to effect anything else, approached the walls and caused the name of Charles to be shouted aloud, together with insults and menaces to the citizens. They, however, with the long-suffering of conscious strength, replied that "they would neither return the insults nor his blows; the Messinese and Palermitans were brothers; the French oppressors their only enemies, and they would do better to turn their arms against the tyrants." With these words they hoisted the standard of the cross of Messina upon the walls beside the eagle of Palermo.

The city of Messina—or rather those who wielded the municipal authority—in order to prove their loyalty, on the 15th of April sent five hundred cross-bowmen, under the command of Chiriolo, a knight of Messina, to garrison Taormina and prevent its occupation by the insurgents. The people, on the other hand, felt their Sicilian blood boil as they received the news of the rising in Palermo and in the other cities, of the progress of the insurgents through the island, and of the slaughter and flight of the French, heightened by many false or exaggerated reports; and when they beheld the fugitives enter Messina, destitute and terror-stricken, they began to murmur and show animosity against the soldiers of Herbert. These, feeling themselves no longer safe in the city, withdrew—some to the castle of Matagrifone, some to the royal palace where Herbert resided. The latter, in an evil hour, decided on a display of energy. He sent ninety horsemen under Micheletto Gatta to occupy the defences of Taormina, as if unable to repose confidence in the Messinese garrison, and the latter, seeing them approach in such arrogant and almost hostile guise, and incited by a citizen named Bartholomew, received them with a cry of insulting defiance and a shower of arrows. The contest being thus engaged, forty of the French remained on the field. The rest fled precipitately for refuge to the castle of Scaletta; and the Sicilians, tearing down the banners of Charles, marched upon Messina to compel her to join the rebellion. In the city thousands were willing, but none had courage, for the work, till a man of the people—Bartholomew Maniscalco by name—conspired with several others to give the signal of action. Meanwhile, forces were preparing to repulse the insurgents from Taormina, and the more prudent of the citizens deplored the impending effusion of the blood of their brethren. The people were on the alert, nor did the conspirators hold back.

Perhaps the entrance into the port of a Palermitan galley, and the slaughter by her crew of a few French who had fallen into their hands, hastened the event. It was the 28th of April when, from the midst of the tumultuous crowd, broke forth the cries of "Death to the French! Death to those who side with them!" and the massacre commenced. The victims, however, were but few, as the previous threatening aspect of the people had cleared the city of the greater number of the French. Maniscalco meanwhile, with his confederates, hoisted the cross of Messina in the place of the detested banner of Anjou; for a brief space he was captain of the people, but owing either to his own modesty or to the influence of the more powerful citizens, which always prevailed in the industrial city of Messina, that same night, by their advice, he resigned the government to Baldwin Mussone, a noble returned but a few hours before, with Matthew and Baldwin de Riso, from the court of King Charles. On the following day, the municipal council having been assembled in form, Mussone was hailed captain by the entire people; and calling on the sacred name of Christ, the republic was proclaimed, under the protection of the Church. The gonfalon, or great banner of the city, was displayed with the utmost pomp. The judges Raynald de Limogi and Nicoloso Saporito, the historian Bartholomew of Neocastro, and Peter Ansalone were elected as counsellors of the new government; and all the public officers, even to the executioners, were likewise elected—as if to show that henceforward the sword of justice was to rule in place of disorder and violence. But it was yet too soon for so complete a revolution.

On the 30th of April the galleys were recalled from Palermo, whither messengers of friendship and alliance were despatched in their stead. Herbert, feeling himself no longer secure in the castle, had recourse to the old manoeuvre of fomenting divisions, but with no better success. He despatched Matthew, a member of the family of Riso—which from consciousness of guilt had allied itself with him—to endeavor to gain over Baldwin Mussone. Matthew accordingly sought him and in presence of all the other counsellors admonished him, using the arguments of a crooked policy, to reflect on the great power of the King, and that this insane tumult would deprive Messina of the advantages that would naturally accrue to her from the rebellion of Palermo. What were the Palermitans to him that he should share their madness? In what had Charles injured him or his city? "How is it possible," continued he, "that thou who wast but yesterday loyal to the King, a friend to us, and the companion of our journey, shouldst have secretly nourished such hatred in thy heart? and now, far from restraining the people from rushing to their ruin, shouldst spur them wildly on? For thy own sake, for that of thy country, return to thy senses—it is yet time."